Brahms Examined

Brahms the Liberated Man

Music History, Hilary Term, Oxford University, K.Ho

Contrary to what some musicians and critics believed, Johannes Brahms was not your average 19^th century reactionary-academic composer, rather, he was a regular liberated man. Brahms’s emancipation came with the success awarded to him after the premiere of the long-labored-upon Symphony in C minor. After years of tinkering and toiling away, oftentimes cycling thematic material into other works, he finally got it right in 1876. He was designated Beethoven’s heir, and had filled the void left by Beethoven. With this new found freedom as a fully legitimated composer, Brahms pushed the symphonic form through a period of relaxed lyricism of the Second Symphony to the rapt conclusion of Fourth Symphony, which, as Kross asserts, signified the culmination of the Classical and Romantic symphonic form. (Kross 145)

In Becker’s article in the New Grove about Brahms’s background it is interesting to note that the composer didn’t experience immediate success with some of his major works, like the First Piano Concerto, this lukewarm reception, plus the denial of the Hamburg post for Brahms daunted him and most certainly contributed to his insecurities concerning his symphonic writing. (Becker 157) Musgrave adds to the discussion by saying that in Brahms’s work there were:

…no sudden changes of manner, no phrases dominated by specific genres. The process is one of continuous integration and re-absorption of principles to new ends, and it is characterized by long consideration, endless revision, and ruthless self-criticism. (Musgrave, The Music… 7)

This notion of self-criticism and revision can be seen from the earliest days of the First Symphony even down to the Fourth Symphony. In her article about an alternative opening to the Fourth Symphony where a chord is held by the winds and brass while the main key is pizzacatoed by the strings, Litterick demonstrates, that despite his established success and reputation, he still was indecisive. (Litterick 235) However, a certain confidence still abounded when, despite the criticisms of his peers, he left the rest of the work untouched. Kross reveals to us that Brahms’s confidants—i.e. Clara Schumann and Kalbeck, among others—all urged him to preserve his reputation by not releasing the work as it was (and how it remains today). (Kross 139-140) After an early performance of the Fourth by Richter, some audience members hissed and had reacted “helplessly.” However, as Brahms’s close friend Elisabet von Herzogenberg wrote to him:

I have had a strange experience with the work, the deeper I look into it, the more the texture deepens, the more the stars appear in the twilight, which at first hides the sparkling points, the more pleasures I have, either, expected or unexpected, and the clearer becomes the continuous tension…. and so much is contained there that one rejoices like an explorer or scientist if one finds out all the tricks of your creation! (Kross 140)

It’s safe to say that the Fourth grew on her, and it subsequently won audiences over within a month of jeers and hisses. The divergent reception of his work is still evident with modern music criticism. A good case in point is the reception of his Academic Festival Overture, op. 80. While Becker calls it slightly mocking,” Dahlhaus calls it, “one of his weakest works…[that is] an unfortunate mixture of symphonic techniques and song quotations,” still yet, Musgrave calls it a “surprising work.” This legacy of divergent opinions is no doubt a residue of the musical politics of the late 19^th Century. The differences between the “New German” movement of Wagner and Liszt, and the conservative camp of Brahms oftentimes led to antagonism between the two parties, when in reality, they were both taking different approaches to the shared goal of finding new forms of expression. Obviously, then, the long tradition of good symphonic writing placed a heavy mantle on Brahms to overcome. Brahms, however, eventually overcame initial trepidation and incorporated some of the best aspects of previous generations—i.e. the lyricism of Schubert and Mendelssohn, Beethoven’s planning and power, and Schumann’s thematic forms—and produced works that paved the way for the likes of Richard Strauss, Mahler and Schoenberg. Kross puts it this way:

It seems as if Brahms, having proved the possibility of composing symphonies after Beethoven without slavishly copying their style had won the freedom to compose without fears about his stylistic identity. (Kross 135)

Much like Beethoven’s symphonies, Brahms ended up writing symphonies that appealed to audiences on a simple phonic level, but his symphonies were of the nature so they also offer an appeal to audiences who might actually read the score. Hence, an “academic” flair would be attached to Brahms’s symphonic writing because it could be appreciated on so many levels. As Dahlhaus, Musgrave and Osmond-Smith all assert the symphonies were very “public” pieces that did convince and hold an audience, however, they were also very intimate pieces as well. Dahlhaus elaborates on this point and says although there could be a mass audience viewing a Brahms symphony, that, in the end, each person is alone in the crowd. (Dahlhaus 269) Musgrave puts it more simply:

Brahms ensures spans of thought and a deep unity in thematic, tonal and contrapuntal relationships, whilst yet leaving a surface on which he can explore the most varied characters and push the individuality of the separate movements to a limit only achieved by the greatest of his predecessors. (Musgrave The Music… 141)

All of the authors consulted agree that Brahms’s expansion of variation and use of counterpoint, irregular rhythms, lush scoring for the orchestra that pushed traditional form to new levels, and incorporation of dance motives, are among the factors that set his symphonic music apart. All the authors agree, though, that while the composer was forging ahead into new “progressive” ground, he still had a reverence for composers of the past. If Becker is to be trusted, than some of those musical forms used by Brahms can be traced to the composer’s interest in Hungarian gypsy music. Certainly in a reading of the First Symphony the difficult and irregular rhythms might be attributed to this interest. The triplet meter that appears all over the work has been attributed by some authors as further evidence of this gypsy influence. Part of the overall notion of Brahms separating himself from Classical composers, is the composer’s use of non tonic-dominant melodies; this was accomplished through modifying phrases with diminished sevenths, Becker asserts, or by resolving with a minor second. (Becker 172) However, Brahms did fancy the use of Classical forms and techniques in new and untried ways. Dahlhaus speaks to this:

…the technique of drawing far-reaching conclusions from a limited base of material [developing variation], in an extreme case from a single interval. This technique is an instance of the classical ideal of thematic and motivic manipulation and is thus thoroughly in line with tradition. However, where Haydn and Beethoven applied this technique primarily, if not exclusively, for purposes of development, Brahms used it as an underlying principle governing all the sections of entire movements…. (Dahlhaus 256)

Most of the authors consulted also noted Brahms’s affinity for quoting various composers who came before him, from Bach to Beethoven. This was, perhaps, made easier due to Brahms’s considerable music library. Drawing upon works of the past and devoting time to studying the use counterpoint and forms Brahms brought counterpoint writing to new highs in his symphonies. Direct homage to many of Beethoven’s piano sonatas can be heard. One of the most often discussed reference is Brahms’s reference to the “Hammerklavier” Sonata and a figure that appears in the third movement. Studying the forms of past music also aided in Brahms’s variation writing. The symphonic framework Brahms to work in, however, was still Classical, but as the authors agree upon he wasn’t “confined” to it.

Sonata form was to Brahms more a framework for his music than, as with Beethoven, a structure that not merely contained but actually expressed the music. (Becker 163)

In discussing one of many piano works by Brahms, the implications can be expanded into the realm of symphonic writing, Becker makes the point that one of the key facets of Brahms’s music, is the mastery of variation; from one theme Brahms’s could draw scores upon scores of variations that were subtle and brilliant. Like the end of the Haydn Variations, op. 56, Brahms’s predilection for incorporating dance forms and technique of variation reached their zenith in the finale of his Fourth Symphony. By taking a passacaglia or chaconne of Bach, and varying it at least 30 times, Brahms thumbed his nose at audiences and provided an initially unwilling audience the conclusion of the Classical and Romantic symphony. Kross argues that the misunderstanding of the linear contraction of variations based on this dance motive can lead to criticisms of “thick” scoring, when it really conveys a sense of fullness and warmth. (Kross 129) Becker also notes Brahms’s instrumentation.

Brahms made orchestral composition harder for himself by rejecting the pictorial instrumentation prevalent in the works of his contemporaries and immediate predecessors. The sensuous sound of the english horn, the swelling ripple of the harp and the full-bodied attack of a percussion section form no part of his orchestration. (Becker 168)

In his symphonies Brahms was more concerned with balance. A comparison of the instrumentation between a random Haydn symphony and one of Brahms reveals that the same number of musicians are involved in a performance of the two respective pieces, with the exception of a few trombones or a triangle here or there. The real power of Brahms, therefore, is the density of his scoring and the balance he presents. The seamless interaction between sections in the orchestra Brahms created, combined with the lyrical use of the bass line that drew contrapuntal conclusions from a non-traditional harmony that not didn’t merely support, can be seen as a sophisticated expansion of traditional forms. (Dahlhaus 257) In the second movement of the Third Symphony, for example, his lush lyrical lines of the upper strings are complemented, oftentimes with a pedal tone in the upper woodwinds. At other times, the melody moves to the low strings, or to the clarinets and bassoons, or to a lush oboe solo. The beauty of this flowing melody, however, lies in the fact that Brahms can seamless float the and alter the melody between sections without any hesitation. This sense of balance was expanded beyond a single passage or movement, though. In his study of Brahms as symphonist, Kross notes the composer would weight whole movements against each other to counterbalance each other like the first and last movements of the First Symphony. (Kross 130)

In his study of the Fourth Symphony, op. 98, Osmond-Smith said Brahms delineated himself from Beethoven by conceptualizing the sonata form in lyrical terms. (Osmond-Smith 153) Therefore, a Brahmsian transition between sections would be lyrically tied together and smoothed out in the end with allusions to previous material in the form of variation. The listener cannot forget, though, the use of Brahmsian tonal tensions and how it aids in the development in his opening and inner symphonic movements. Brahms also worked with balance and weighting different parts of symphony in new ways:

In Brahms’s symphonies, however, the centre of gravity shifts back to the exposition: the development section is no greater in length and content than the exposition, as it is in Beethoven. (Kross 132)

In all of his symphonies moods are conveyed. From the Alpine horn call of the first, to the lyricism of nature contained within the Second, to the sweeping and bombastic theme of Schumann of the Third, to the final tense sighs of the Fourth, his rich harmonies, extensive use of triple meter, and that consistent “Brahmsian” sound can be heard. Musgrave attributes the tight and seamless dialogues between sections of the orchestra to Brahms conceiving the orchestra as a “super chamber medium” which, in my opinion, conveys a certain type of intimacy that further speaks to the notion of a private public work. In Musgrave’s own analysis of Brahms’s symphony output descriptors like: deep, thematic, clear varied, and broad are used. It is evident from a broad perspective that Brahms elevated the form of the symphony. He proved that it didn’t have to be showy or overall programmatic. It was up to others who came after him to strike a balance between the thematic approach of Brahms and the programmatic approach of the “New Germans” Brahms could only provide a standard of achievement for others to adhere to. Brahms knew not to write anymore symphonies after the Fourth. Kross states that this was a result of the awareness not to compromise his credibility by pushing his luck. (Kross 144) This may be the case as Brahms was extremely self-aware, but he did leave a legacy for others to follow in that as. Fellinger, who ends his discussion of Brahms by saying that Brahms was the only composer of the time who upheld and restored a “tradition” of drawing upon the great composers of the past. However, in my opinion, knowing when to stop writing was the mark of a certain type of self-control and humility exhibited by more “liberated” people and that’s what Brahms certainly was.

Works Consulted:

Becker, Heinz. “Johannes Brahms” in the New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians: vol. 3. Ed. Stanley Sadie. Hong Kong, 1980.

Brahms, Johannes. Symphony No. 1, Op. 68. London: Eulenburg, Ltd.

Brahms, Johannes. Sinfonie Nr. 2. Ed. Darvas Gabor. Budapest: EMB.

Brahms, Johannes. Symphony No. 4, Op. 98. London: Eulenburg, Ltd.

Brahms, Johannes. Symphony No. 1, Op. 68. [CD] Berlin Philharmonic, Herbert von Karajan, conducting. Deutsche Grammophon, 1964.

Brahms, Johannes. Symphony No. 1, Op. 68. [CD] London Philharmonic, Eugen Jochum, conducting. EMI, 1977.

Brahms, Johannes. Symphony No. 2, Op 73. [CD] Vienna Philharmonic, Carlo Maria Giulini, conducting. Deutsche Grammophon, 1992.

Brahms, Johannes. Symphony No. 2, Op. 73. [CD] Berlin Philharmonic, Claudio Abbado, conducting. Deutsche Grammophon, 1988.

Brahms, Johannes. Symphony No. 4, Op. 98. [CD] Berlin Philharmonic, Claudio Abbado, conducting. Deutsche Grammophon, 1992.

Brodbeck, David. Brahms: Symphony No. 1. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997.

Dahlhaus, Carl. Nineteenth-Century Music. Trans. Robinson, J.B. UC Berkeley Press: Los Angeles, 1980.

Fellinger, Imogen. “Brahms’s ‘Way’: a composer’s self-view” in Brahms 2. Ed. Michael Musgrave. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1987.

Kross, Siegfried. “Brahms the symphonist” in Brahms: biographical, documentary and analytical studies. Ed. Robert Pascall. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1983.

Litterick, Louise. “Brahms the indecisive” in Brahms 2. Ed. Michael Musgrave. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1987.

Musgrave, Michael. “The cultural world of Brahms” in Brahms: biographical, documentary and analytical studies. Ed. Robert Pascall. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1983.

Musgrave, Michael. The Music of Brahms. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1985.

Osmond-Smith, David. “The retreat from dynamism: a study of Brahms’s Fourth Symphony” in Brahms: biographical, documentary and analytical studies. Ed. Robert Pascall. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1983.